How could this happen?
by cyndaquilka
Summary: An alternative version of the end of episode 5x07 The Itch in which Cuddy noticed House wandering around her apartment. Translation of "Jak to się mogło stać?".
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1.**

The next sunny day in Princeton was coming to an end. Even though it was just getting dark, in most of the houses the lights were already on. From one of the apartments, one could hear the sound of a guitar. Dr. Gregory House was relaxing after solving his last case. He was playing one of his favourite songs when a mosquito sat at one of his hands.

House froze on the spot. This little son of a bitch kept him awake at nights and made his best friend believe he was going crazy. One swift move and it would all be over!

He raised his other hand, and then saw the bloody sticking plaster which covered the bite. The man took a closer look at his outstretched hands. Never before had he noticed how old he become. He'd been lonely for longer than he could remember. Even though he kept telling himself otherwise. And now, this thing with Cuddy came up. House didn't mean to kiss her. Things just got out of hand. For some mysterious reason, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Maybe there was some truth to Wilson's twisted logic? Maybe there indeed was no bite, and he changed one obsession for another?

House moved his hand closer to his lips and blew off the mosquito. What had he been waiting for for all these years? Not too long ago, he heavily critiqued a patient who locked himself up within his own four walls, pretending to be happy, while he himself was no better. It's time for some changes. He'd go to Cuddy, knock on her door, and ask her out. You only lived once, right?

At once, he jumped to his feet, put down the guitar. The man grabbed the jacket with one hand, the keys with the other, and stormed out of the apartment, not even bothered to turn off the lights.

A few moments later, he was outside Cuddy's house, his motorcycle parked at the wayside. At a quick pace, House limped to the front door. He looked through one of the windows. She was there. Sitting, drinking tea. Without a worry in the world.

Then, he panicked. What was he going to tell her, anyway? That he wanted to date her? She'd laugh in his face. And if it didn't work with her, it wouldn't work with anyone. If he never tried, then at least he was left with some hope. Another time, another day, he might try again. Without forcing himself.

He made two steps backwards, turned around, and moved ahead.

"House!" he heard from behind his back. "Is that you?"

House looked behind, surprised. There was Cuddy, standing on the threshold.

"Yeah," he answered after a moment. "How did you know it was me?"

"I saw you by the door. Why are you here?" she asked.

"Well…" he said, trying to buy some time to come up with an excuse. To no avail. "The patient figured out that our hospital can be quite useful, as it managed to save his stupid ass, so he's not suing us anymore. I thought you should know."

"Right…" replied Cuddy, taken aback. "And this couldn't wait until tomorrow because…?"

"Sure it could. But, as I was on my way, I figured it wouldn't hurt to let you know."

"House," she interrupted. "You live in the opposite direction."

"Who says I was heading home?" the man retorted. "I'm going to Wilson's. He was supposed to call for hookers for the night. He's always dreamed of a square."

"That's strange, because he called me just a moment ago. He said he had two tickets for _The Dark Knight_ and asked whether I'm free for the evening. He didn't say a word about his prior appointments."

House's jaw dropped a little. How could he have been so careless? Wilson was trying to drag him along to watch this movie for weeks! He made a total fool out of himself.

"Get in, I'll make you a drink," stated Cuddy without a warning, pulling the dumbfounded doctor in by the sleeve. "I still think we should talk. What happened with your cane?"

* * *

"Here, take this." Cuddy placed two cups of hot coffee in front of House.

"Thanks."

"How's your hand?" she asked with care, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Better," he replied, glancing at his palm.

For some time, they were both quietly avoiding each other's gaze. Cuddy broke the silence.

"So, back to the subject," she started cautiously. "Tell me what actually happened the other night."

House looked at the woman, taken aback by the directness of her question. For the second time today, she tried to make him speak. The problem was, he had no intention to give her the answer. He dropped his gaze.

"Nothing," he said. "I came to gloat."

"Oh no!" protested Cuddy. "These are my words. You're taking the easy way."

"Why does it bother you so much?" inquired House, turning to face his boss. He looked deeply into her bright, grey eyes. Cuddy lost her confidence but decided not to let go.

"Because you are my employee. And I don't know what to think about this whole situation."

"Just drop it," he said, trying to sound indifferent. "I'm not into office affairs."

"You're an ass." She smiled, taking a sip of her drink. "Admitting that you did something nice for once won't ruin your reputation. You've worked for it too hard."

House said nothing. He drank his coffee in one gulp, as if it was a strong booze. He stood up.

"I've got to go," he informed her.

Cuddy, utterly confused with her guest's behaviour, didn't even try to stop him.

"Okay," she stated in a sad voice and walked him to the exit.

"Goodnight," he said on his way out.

"House."

He came to a halt. Cuddy was having a deja vu of the previous evening. House showed up at her place out of nowhere, he kept her company for a few minutes, and ran away the moment the atmosphere was getting intimate. This time, however, she wouldn't let him leave without a word. She came closer to place a light kiss on his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

Her reaction shocked House. This wasn't what he had expected. When he came back to his senses, the woman was closing the door in front of him. In the last second, he stopped it with his hand. Cuddy looked up, unsure what to think. The sentence he uttered had barely got out of his mouth.

"It wasn't just a kiss."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

House watched Cuddy cautiously, waiting for her reaction. She was standing still, her face tense.

"What do you mean?" she coughed up through dried mouth. "Do you want to– date me?"

"If by dating you mean wild, crazy sex every day…"

"House!" Cuddy interrupted. She opened her mouth, about to say something, when she noticed that his icy blue eyes were full of fear. She sighed.

Everything was lost, he was sure of it. He overdid it this time. Ruined the best chance he got. How could he have been so stupid and naive to show up at her doorstep? Then, she retorted,

"Every third day."

Cuddy looked at House with a daring smirk on her face. The very same one she gave him on the winter evening when she asked whether he liked her. House couldn't believe his ears.

"W–What?" he choked out.

"Alright, every second day. Deal?" she asked and, as if nothing happened, held out her hand to finalize the deal. Shaky fingers were the only giveaway of her nervousness.

The man didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed her wrist and pulled the woman into his arms. He placed his hands on her waist and kissed her with affection.

"I'll take this as a _yes,_ " he heard the moment he took his lips from Cuddy's.

"I hope the counter starts right now," said House, referring to her proposition.

"Not so fast," she stopped him. "I don't sleep with men before the first date."

At these words, she turned her back to him and went back home, leaving House alone. Right before the front door closed shut, through the small gap he noticed her flirtatious smile.

"Nice," he whispered with a grin on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

"Hi, honey!"

"Oh my God!" Cuddy jumped up, startled. "House, did you sleep here?"

The head of Diagnostic Team was standing on the porch, very pleased with himself. Meanwhile, a definitely less sleepy hospital administrator was locking the door to her own house.

"Just wanted to be sure I'll get to see you before work."

"When I agreed to be seeing you, I didn't mean _all the time_ ," she said sarcastically.

"You're the only one who thinks this joke's funny," he informed her, smiling either way. "Don't lock the door, you need to go change."

"House, I'm not wearing the red miniskirt. I have a business meeting."

"I meant something less airy," the man specified, taking a closer look at Cuddy's black skirt. "Every passer-by will be free to admire your sexy ass if you ride a motorcycle dressed the way you are. I'd be jealous."

His boss glanced at him suspiciously.

"I had no clue you'd be getting me a lift to work from now on," commented Cuddy.

"You're not going to work today," House simply stated. "I'm taking you for a little trip."

"Of course I'm going. I can't take a day off just like that."

"Come on, Cuddy…" House started whining. "Cut the crap, will you? You haven't skipped any classes since your second year of studies. A day of freedom won't kill you, I promise."

Seeing that she was still uncertain, he rolled his eyes and added,

"Everything's on House."

"That's much better," he heard in response. "Give me five minutes, okay?"

"Sure."

When Cuddy disappeared behind the door, House sighed inwardly. Truth be told, he wasn't sure he'd succeed in persuading her.

* * *

Cuddy was getting impatient. And nervous, nonetheless. It wasn't that she didn't trust House. She wasn't scared of him, either. What truly scared her were his crazy ideas and unpredictable behaviour. And maybe her own imagination, as well?

"House, are we there yet?"

"You're so nervous before ovulating" she heard in response. "Hold on for a little longer."

The woman was cautious when taking steps. What could this be that she felt under her feet? Gravel? Mud? Sand? It was hard to tell. Before she came to a conclusion, House stopped her gently with his hand.

"Now," he informed, taking off a black scarf which was supposed to cover her eyes. The flash of light nearly blinded her. After a while, when Cuddy got used to the bright sunlight, she had an opportunity to look around. The view was breathtaking.

They were in the middle of a sandy beach, next to an old, dry log. The clear blue ocean stretched out in front of them. There was not a living soul in sight. Just the two of them.

"House," whispered Cuddy. "It's beautiful in here."

When she looked behind, the man was already sitting comfortably. He patted the place right next to him. Cuddy sat down without another word, smiling at the prospect. House put an arm around her.

"Bon appetit," he said, handing her a cardboard package.

"When did you get this?" The woman failed to hide her amusement.

"On the way," replied House, unpacking his portion. "Eat or it'll get cold."

"Chicken wings…?" She made a slightly disgusted face when looking over his shoulder. "Couldn't you have taken two feta salads?"

"I don't eat such crappy food," he said deadly serious, which got him hit between the ribs with the elbow.

"Mooom, a girl just hit me!" House's expression resembled that of a five-year-old who was punished by his parents for the deeds he didn't commit. This time. His reaction amused the Dean of Medicine, who leaned in to give him a peck on the cheek and asked,

"Feeling any better?"

"I don't know…" The doctor made a thoughtful face. "Maybe a teeny-tiny bit."

Cuddy kissed him one more time.

"This will have to do," she simply stated. "I didn't hit you this hard."

They ate their breakfast, enjoying the view. Not necessary of the surrounding area.

Then, they both heard a ringtone.

"Hallo?" Cuddy shouted to the microphone. "Oh God… I'm so sorry, I've totally forgotten." She turned to face her boyfriend. "Sorry, very important. Give me a minute." Again, she addressed the person on the other side of the line. "Cancel all my meetings and try to reschedule for the upcoming week. Me? I'm fine. No, I won't be there. Why? Well, you see…"

At last, House lost his patience. He took the phone from Cuddy and continued the conversation.

"Hi. Doctor Cuddy's out of reach for the day. Important family matters."

"And you are?" said the male voice in the receiver.

"A hooker."

"No, you're not. Doctor Cuddy doesn't look like the kind…"

"Oh, really?" the diagnostician didn't let him finish. "Go figure."

"Could I talk to her? There's an urgent matter we need to discuss."

"Sorry, no can do. Don't be a little girl and start thinking on your own," House reprimanded the caller. "See ya!"

He turned off the phone and gave it back to his boss. She scowled at him in return.

"You didn't have to do this."

"I sure did," the man summed up. "I know you work with a bunch of idiots, but even they can manage for one day without supervision. The hospital will be fine."

"Especially when something serious happens and they won't be able to reach me."

She seemed as doubtful as ever. House pulled the woman even closer and put his head on her forehead.

"I need you more than they do."

He kissed her softly, proving that he meant it. Having noticed that rushing things would bring him nothing good, he slowed down. The man wanted to give his lady a moment to think. After all, her life had been nothing but work for a very long time.

Cuddy wasn't sure how she should react. Her normal life looked nothing like today. Which didn't mean she disliked it. Even if the trip to the beach was the last dating activity she expected from House. Well, maybe besides going to a strip club. A male strip club, that is.

She was curious what he was going to surprise her with next. But was endangering her professional career worth finding out? She could never be certain. Still, she decided to take the risk.

"I'm sorry," she said after a moment. "I'll make it up to you."

Her employee smirked, as if he'd been waiting for this moment all along.

"I think I know how…"


	4. Chapter 4

_Thank you all for your support. It makes me want to work on the translation even faster. Here's the next part. Enjoy!_

* * *

 **Chapter 4.**

"Oh no!" nearly screamed Cuddy on the mere sight of what's before her. "I'm not getting in. Just forget it!"

She hadn't been in a theme part since she was little. Even as a teenager, she never let her peers persuade her to ride a roller coaster. At the moment, she was standing at the foot of the biggest coaster she'd ever seen. That was telling something, considering she'd grown up a few centimeters since her school years.

"Chill out," said House in the most charming voice he could muster. " Don't be a fun sucker."

"You were planning this from the very beginning. Just admit it."

"Even if I have, you've got no choice," he noted, grinning. "You gave your word."

Cuddy shook her head, covering her eyes with one hand. She wondered what the man was trying to achieve. Did he think that she'd be scared enough to snuggle into his manly arms? Sounded good, to be honest.

"Only because I didn't know what I was getting into." She came a bit closer to the man. "How did you plan to persuade me?"

"With my personal charm!" The diagnostician's chest swelled with pride.

"With _what_?" She couldn't stop herself.

Cuddy kissed him before the man had a chance to express his indignation.

"Alright," she said peaceably. "You got me."

"Is it World House Day already?" House grinned mockingly.

The woman made a step back. She frowned, taking a closer look at her boyfriend.

"What?" The man spread his arms.

"House." In disbelief, she uttered, "You look… happy."

"You look sexy," he returned the favor. He'd hoped it didn't show that much.

House put a arm around his date and steered to the exit. On the way, he cracked under Cuddy's interrogative gaze.

"Quite a rare view, huh? Just don't tell Wilson," he added as an afterthought. "If he finds out his moralizing talks actually work, he'll never let me live."

* * *

"Now, it wasn't that bad, was it, Cuddy?"

The door to the lady's room he stood next to opened slightly. From behind them, looked out a pale face of his boss. She gave him a reproachful look.

"Are you done?" he asked with care.

"I hope I am."

House took his girlfriend by the shoulder and walked her to the nearest bench. The Dean of Medicine fell heavily on the hard wood. The man sat next to her.

"I have to admit," she stated the moment she got back her colors, "that I've always wondered what I'd missed. And now I know. I have no regrets."

"Neither do I," he agreed. "Especially when I look at this photo!"

Out of his pocket, he took out the picture of them. The woman looked at it with interest.

"Really? Out of all our pictures they took, you picked the one where I'm vomiting?!" She just couldn't believe him.

"It's showing my better profile," he justified. "Besides, you can hang the photo over your bed. Whenever you'll think things can't get any worse, you'll think of today's attractions."

In one swift move, Cuddy took the photo out of his hand and hid it in her bag.

At this time, House's cell phone started ringing.

"You turned off mine but not yours?" said his boss with displeasure.

"Unlike you, I have patients who could be actually dying." He picked up. "It'd better be important."

"House, where the hell are you?" he heard Kutner's voice.

"In a theme park," he said truthfully. "I'm on a roller coaster just now."

"Put away the drugs and get back to work!" This time it was Foreman.

"Sorry, have a busy schedule." The doctor looked into the grey eyes of the brunette sitting on his left. "What are you doing there, by the way?"

"You mean we shouldn't be here?" asked Taub with uncertainty.

"Congratulations, deduction master. Now, shoo! Enjoy your freedom."

House disconnected. Cuddy watched him carefully.

"We don't have any cases," he explained. "There's no need for them to stick around."

"So thoughtful of you."

The woman cuddled close to him. When the sun disappeared behind the clouds, Cuddy realized she was dressed too lightly for partying outside. And this man was so warm…

One thing got her attention. Although it was hard to admit, even to herself. She'd been dating a lot of guys, but the diagnostician was unique in one respect. This had nothing to do with the way he looked or acted. When she was with him, she felt safe.

"Ready for a new challenge?" he suddenly asked.

"It's my turn to pick the place."

"But mooom…" House made a sad face.

"Don't you think you owe me one?"

"That wasn't the deal."

"Maybe it's a perk?"

The man took a deep sigh. He knew perfectly well how to win this fight. Years of work taught him how to manipulate his employer with a satisfying success rate. Was it all that mattered, though? They're not at work anymore. There's no employer-employee-that-will-get-what-he-wants relation. They should treat each other as equals. Otherwise, the relationship would be as good as over.

"Okay." The man nodded in agreement. "Where do _you_ want to go?"

"It's not so far away," she replied. "We'll take your bike."

"Cuddy, just one thing." The diagnostician's tone was deadly serious. "When you hold on to me, keep your nice little fingers a bit higher. Next time, I might actually hit something."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

Half an hour later, the pair pf doctors found themselves alarmingly close to a ticket office.

"You must be kidding me," protested House. "You hate opera!"

Cuddy gave him a meaningful look.

"Have you ever considered the fact that you don't know everything about me?"

"And, what's more important, I also hate opera," he continued, undeterred. "Which means that making my life miserable brings you joy. Or, you're just testing me."

"House, can't you just shut up and watch the show?"

"As if you didn't know me at all," he noticed.

Cuddy brushed her lips over the man's neck to prove to him that she did. She took his hand and smiled at him. House had to admit that his boss knew exactly what strings to pull when she wanted something. A moment or two more and he'd agree to anything.

"You coming or not?" she asked at last.

"Of course I am. Under one condition, though," the man corrected himself. "You'll have to hold my hand during the show. Then, I might bear with it somehow."

* * *

"This was the worst 100 bucks I've ever spent," commented House the moment they left the building.

"How would you know? You fell asleep at the very beginning."

"You weren't much better," he retorted. "I could hear your snoring in my sleep!"

"Liar," said Cuddy, speeding up a bit. "I don't snore."

"You wish! I remember to this day."

The woman glanced at him, astonished. A moment later, she smiled.

"It's in the past," she said taking his hand. "So are many other things. I stopped before I hired you."

All of a sudden, the diagnostician lost his mood. The woman felt that something wasn't right.

"What is it?" she asked with care. They stopped.

House was looking blankly ahead for a while.

"I'm sorry," he said, dropping his gaze. "I should have called you."

"What are you…"

She broke off the moment she realized what her boyfriend was talking about. A cold shiver went down her spine. The Dean of Medicine didn't know why he brought up the subject now of all times.

"Forget it," stated Cuddy to make him stop opening up old wounds. "It was years ago."

Hastily, she took a look around.

"Hungry?"

* * *

"I'm sorry but you'll have to wait," explained the waiter. "We have no free tables."

"Thank you," replied Cuddy. "We'll go somewhere else. House?"

The diagnostician was no longer by her side. He was scanning the room full of people. In the crowd, he noticed an elegantly dressed man accompanied by a leggy blonde who was glancing nervously at two gossiping women. House smiled to himself. He approached the ladies who were apparently too preoccupied to pay attention.

"On your place, ma'am, I wouldn't be able to sleep at nights, knowing that my husband is a cheaty bastard who bangs underages!" The man shouted at the top of his voice.

The brunette looked at the pair that the intruder pointed with his cane at. Her face turned purple. She got up, stormed her way to her husband's table, and − after a heated exchange − the unfaithful husband was painfully slapped on the cheek. The teenage girl got his other one.

The four of them hurried out of the restaurant. Very pleased with himself, House walked back to the waiter who couldn't believe his own eyes.

"You weren't trying hard enough," he informed the devastated boy. "In less than a two minutes, I found two free tables. I wonder how many I can find in ten."

"There's no need, sir!" the young man reacted in an instant. "Please, let me show you to your seats."

Cuddy covered her face with her hand, not even trying to make a comment on the incident. Everyone's eyes were already on them.

* * *

The pair was reading the menu when they were approached by the former occupant of the table.

"Don't you think I won't get back at you just because you're a cripple!" he shouted into the doctor's face.

"Not at all!" retorted House, folding his arms. "You won't get back at me because you're a total moron!"

The man in the suit was losing what was left of his self-control.

"You'll regret this," he threatened. Having straightened up his hat, the stranger left in an unknown direction.

"So, what are we ordering?" asked the diagnostician, as if nothing happened.

"You've gone too far," said Cuddy accusingly, pointing a finger at him.

"I've gone too far?" House reacted a bit too sharply. "The guy hits on a chick less than half his age while his wife is sitting two tables away, but I'm the one who's gone too far?!"

The man jumped to his feet, nearly hitting with the menu on the table.

"Order me a lobster. Be right back," he mumbled, heading to the man's room. He was limping hard.

When he was alone at last, House leaned against the sink, gazing at his reflection in the mirror. His face was white as chalk.

From his pocket, the man took out Vicodin. He threw three pills at once into his dry throat. For the first time in years, he had to wash them down with water.

It didn't help much.

House wandered around the bathroom, trying to walk it off. With no success. The pain wouldn't go away. It was getting worse from the moment he arrived at the restaurant. Well, actually ever since he'd realized he should finally tell her. After all, this was a very important event in their lives, in their relationship. The memory of this day wasn't a pleasant one. What's even worse, Cuddy was making his job harder. As if she knew what he was about to say and did everything not to let him.

Walking wasn't helping, either. Desperate, he pulled down his pants to massage his thigh. The man was unable to stand still, and the jeans were getting in his way. He took them off and threw under the sink. He kept moving around, believing the pain would go away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

Cuddy waited at the table for several long minutes. House wasn't getting back. She was getting worried. The man had been acting strange since she didn't let him speak. She knew she should have listened to whatever he had to say but she couldn't make herself to. It hurt too much.

She was done with waiting. The woman got up and hurried to the restroom. He was gone for far too long. Something might have happened.

Cuddy took a deep breath before entering.

"House?" she called.

From under the door, she could see a familiar pair of shoes. She looked inside.

The diagnostician was sitting on the closed toilet seat and massaging the aching leg. He looked up, taken aback. In his blue eyes, she could see he was in pain. The Dean of Medicine crouched and placed the hand on the man's knee.

"It's your leg, isn't it?" she asked quietly, although she already knew the answer. Whenever something bothered the man, his pain doubled. Physically and psychically. He said nothing.

"House." Cuddy decided to make the first step. She didn't think this would be so hard. "I am the one who should be sorry. I shouldn't have let Stacy make the decision for you. It's your leg, after all. Please understand, we didn't want to−"

"What are you talking about?"

The woman looked up. He had truly no idea.

"That's what you were trying to tell me, isn't it?" She felt like losing the ground beneath her feet. "That you're sorry for not speaking to me after your procedure. We should have closed this topic years ago."

"What? No. Cuddy…" Now House was disconcerted. He reached out to his boss and gently lifted her chin, so that she would face him. He spoke slowly and clearly. "I never blamed you for my leg."

The woman could feel the tension draining. She thought she'd never hear him say it. After all these years. She felt much lighter now. Her eyes shone with unshed tears.

"What _did_ you want to tell me, then?"

The man sighed heavily. Avoiding Cuddy's gaze, he said,

"Do you remember our night together?"

Of course. How could she forget.

"Next day, I got a call from the dean. They threw me out, wanted me to pack my things. I saw no reason to call you." His voice shook slightly. "I'm sorry for leaving you without a word."

Cuddy held her breath. For the last twenty years, she thought of him as the last jerk who used a moment of weakness of an inexperienced girl to his own advantage and never even bothered to contact her again. After some time, she learned to live with it. She forgave him. Now it turned out there was nothing to forgive. She'd probably do the same thing.

In the meantime, House had been blaming himself. For everything. For hurting her, for wasting the only true chance for happiness he'd ever had. He wasn't certain she'd be able to look at him the way she used to. It hadn't really mattered − until now.

The man was so lost in his own thoughts that he jumped up feeling a cold, sweaty hand at his thigh. Despite his protests, Cuddy kneeled down and kissed his scar.

"Stop it," hissed House through clenched teeth, helping the woman up. "It's a guy thing to knee in front of a woman."

"Thank you," was all she said.

House tried to stand on his right leg. The pain was lifting at last.

Then, an older man entered the restroom. At the sight of them, he murmured a quick _I'm sorry_ and disappeared.

"We'd better go back before my lobster gets cold," suggested the diagnostician.

"House." Cuddy stopped him by the door. "Where are your pants?"

They looked around.

"They should be…" he started, pointing at the sink. Then, it hit him. "Son of a bitch!"

He pushed the door so hard that it smashed against the wall. Stormed to the center of the room. Nearly ran to the entrance. All for nothing. The guy was nowhere to be seen.

"Just leave it." His boss approached him and grabbed him by the forearm. "Let's eat and go back home."

"On foot, I suppose," pointed out House.

* * *

The taxi arrived at the restaurant two minutes late. Once the two doctors sat in the rear, the driver started the car. Noticing a pantless man in the mirror, he couldn't stop himself from making a comment.

"Some heavy drinking you had, huh?"

"Striptease," retorted the diagnostician. "In the city park. She didn't let me finish."

Next, he addressed Cuddy, whose hand was still on his leg.

"It doesn't hurt that much anymore."

"Yeah, I know."

The woman leaned closer and looked up at her partner.

"You really thought I didn't forgive you?"

"You really thought I blamed you for my leg?" House answered with a question.

He thought the conversation was over, but then Cuddy decided to answer.

"Yes." she admitted. "I was your doctor, wasn't I?"

"You had a signed permission in your hand. If I were on your place, I'd do the same thing."

"When you were on your place, you insisted on something completely different," she reminded him.

"And I almost died."

House remembered perfectly well the way he felt when he saw a giant hole in his leg for the first time. Angry. Betrayed. Powerless. He hated the closest person to him for something he'd do to his patients without a blink of an eye. Did he regret his decision? Maybe. But he couldn't have known the outcome beforehand.

"I've never thought you'd trust the jerk who stood you up," replied the man, returning the favor.

"I am here, aren't I?"

"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, you are."

* * *

"I had a great time today," informed Cuddy when House walked her to the door.

"So did I," the man admitted, glancing down. "Most of the time."

They smiled to each other at the memory of the day they spent together. After a short pause, the Dean of Medicine added,

"I'll see you tomorrow at work."

"I'm looking forward to it."

She came a step closer, put her arms around the man's shoulder, and kissed him goodbye. Involuntarily, House's face fell. _That's it?,_ he almost whispered. But just almost. He so much didn't want to ruin the good impression he'd worked for for the whole day. Slowly, he drifted away towards the waiting cab.

Cuddy couldn't stop herself for much longer. She wanted to screw around with him, not torture the poor man.

"House," she called after the leaving doctor. "Do you want to come in?"

"God, I thought you'd never ask!" he blurted out.

She never would have thought that anyone could walk with a cane with such speed.

* * *

He went inside, closing the front door with one swift move. The man let go of his cane. It landed on the floor with a loud bang. He didn't need it anymore. He approached Cuddy and started to kiss her. Without taking his lips off her, House unbuttoned her blouse. A moment later, this piece of clothing fell down next to the cane. Not wanting to remain indebted, the woman reached for his shirt.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock on the door.

"House, someone's at the door," indistinctly said Cuddy without breaking the kiss. The bell rang with even more persistence

"House," she repeated. No reaction. The uninvited guest was still trying to enter. Reluctantly, Cuddy pushed the man away at a safe distance. "I'll see who this is."

"You'd better hurry!" he called after her.

The Dean of Medicine put the blouse back on her shoulders and, not wasting the time to rebutton it, she opened the door slightly.

"Hi, Cuddy," greeted her a worried and a little impatient voice of the oncologist. "Have you heard from House recently? He didn't show up to work. I'm a little worried."

"Hi, Wilson," said the man in question, standing behind Cuddy. He couldn't stop himself from putting at least one arm around her waist. "Wanna join in?"

Only just Wilson noticed that his boss was clumsily buttoning her shirt, and his best friend was standing before him in incomplete clothing. He didn't need House's brilliance to figure out what was going on.

"Oh God," he exclaimed, holding up both his hands defensively. He dropped his gaze. "I am _so_ sorry. Don't mind me, I'm out of here!"

Wilson practically ran to his car, not daring to look behind. When he sat down and calmed a bit, he understood what had really happened. The oncologist smiled to himself, shaking his head. He was happy for his friend, he truly was. But at the same time knew that − whatever was it that he witnessed − didn't necessarily have to mean anything. House was very adept in destroying relationships, his own included. Still, the mere fact that the diagnostician had listened to his friend's advice was already a success. He made a move. Admitted that he wanted to be happy. Everything was going to be simpler from now on. The oncologist headed back home. This was a cause to celebrate!

House shut the door, focusing his attention back on his girlfriend. He resumed his task in stripping the clothes from her body.

"So, where were we?" he asked in a deep voice.

* * *

The alarm went off. Cuddy instinctively hit the button with her hand, putting the clock to sleep for five more minutes. She snuggled back to the chest of the man sleeping next to her. She felt comfortable but knew she'd have to get up in a moment. After the second alarm, she decided to shift up to a sitting position. But the arm which was lying limply against her waist stopped her in mid-move.

"Stay for a bit longer," whispered House.

"I can't," she replied. "I need to go to work. You have one, too, remember?"

"I sure do. But my little world won't fall apart if I'm late," the man retorted.

"Sorry but my meeting starts in under an hour," said Cuddy, getting out of his grip. "Get up if you don't want to take a bus."

House sat up unwillingly. He glanced at the watch.

"We've still got some time, then."

He took his boss's hand and pulled her back to bed.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

"In the evening, we're going to retrieve your bike," said Cuddy the moment they entered the hospital. House let her in first.

"Great. I miss her already."

"Oh really?" The woman pretended to be jealous.

"I didn't get the chance to miss you yet," he stated, kissing his boss in the middle of the hall.

"Yes!" they heard Chase's exclamation. In an instant, everyone's eyes shifted from the selfish bastard making out with the boss to the overjoyed surgeon.

"I'm sorry," added Chase after a while, noticing the impropriety of his behavior. "Please, go on."

Positively delighted, he ran towards the clinic. He was eyes by most of the staff. Several doctors left right after him.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Cuddy.

"Hell if I know," House put off her question. "It's Chase."

The man turned back to his girlfriend and kissed her one more time. In return, the woman patted him gently on his unclean-shaved cheek.

"Enough for now. Everyone's staring at us." She went to the elevator. "See you at five."

"Do you know where no one will be staring? In your closed office. With the blinds down, of course."

"See you, House," said the Dean of Medicine with finality and disappeared behind the door.

* * *

The diagnostic team was sitting at the table and browsing through medical files when the office door opened ajar. A few minutes later, their boss stormed inside, happily singing _Never had nobody like you_. At the top of his lungs.

"Did you sleep well tonight?" asked Kutner.

"Sex was great." House winked, grinning. "Thanks for your interest."

The diagnostician took a closer look at his employees before adding.

"How much did you win?"

"Eight hundred," replied Kutner, the corners of his lips twitching in amusement.

"Judging from your faces," House addressed the other members of the team, "the rest of you didn't believe in me. I'm so disappointed in you, guys. And you, bisexual girl."

Foreman, Taub, and Thirteen looked at each other.

"I lost my hope months ago," stated Foreman. "You should have warned us."

"Sorry, too busy."

"You don't look sorry," noticed Taub. "How much did _you_ win?"

House turned on the coffee machine.

"Half of Chase's profits."

"And he agreed?" asked Thirteen in a surprised tone.

"Apparently." The doctor poured hot water into his mug. "Besides, if he didn't cooperate, Cuddy might have accidentally received an anonymous letter, because of which he wouldn't get a dime."

Cameron entered the room.

"House, I've got a case for you. A twenty-five-year-old male with respiratory problems–"

"Huh." the diagnostician looked at the woman, thoughtful. "You're the only person who's totally disregarding my private life. And by private I mean sexual. Jealous?"

"I'm dating Chase."

"Exactly my point."

Using her distraction to his advantage, House pulled the files from her hands.

"I knew this would be interesting."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

"Hi, Wilson!"

The oncologist jumped in his chair, nearly knocking off a pile of papers to the floor. In a meantime, the diagnostician lied down on the sofa.

"Hi, House…" coughed up Wilson.

"Are you uncomfortable with my presence?"

"What? No… Not at all!" The head of the Department of Oncology was persistently looking for something.

"Good," stated House. "Because I'd swear you're avoiding me."

"I was avoiding Cuddy," Wilson finally admitted. "Oddly enough, you were always around."

He had no intention to speak about yesterday's incident. He'd put himself in a very awkward position. Still, he was more curious than embarrassed question his friend about the things that happened at Cuddy's apartment. Especially after he'd left

"What actually happened the other day?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

"I thought you got the picture."

The oncologist made a nervous laugh. He thought hard about his next question.

The diagnostician made a sentimental face.

"This is so cute! Our little Wilson is embarrassed."

"I'm sorry for feeling uncomfortable after I burst into Cuddy's house when you were…"

"Having wild sex," House finished the sentence for his friend.

"Exactly," said Wilson with more confidence. "Stop avoiding. The day before yesterday, you made me believe you're better off alone. What's changed?

"Nothing."

The oncologist gave him one of his suspicious looks. The other doctor returned the favor.

"Okay." Wilson admitted defeat. He'd talk to Cuddy. Getting the truth out of her should be a much easier task.

"Okay?" repeated House, standing up. "That's it?"

"You're not going to tell me, are you? Two more days and you'll run to me of your own accord, begging me to listen to your problems. I can wait."

"You're taking away all the fun," said the man before leaving.

* * *

He's been standing by her door for over half a minute. A few times, he reached out for the door knob but changed his mind at the last moment. Cuddy would probably ignore him if the sight of him wasn't so distracting. And she had a lot of job to do.

The woman approached her office door and held it open.

"What do you want?" she asked the bemused oncologist.

"Hi," he said in response. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Why didn't you get in, then?" she pointed out.

"I just wanted to…" he started. His employer's expression told him that he was making his situation worse. He let go. "May I?"

Cuddy moved to make him some space. Wilson stood in the middle of the room with the tips of his fingers joined.

"Mazel tov," he congratulated. "Sorry for not saying this earlier."

"That's alright," replied Cuddy, taking the place behind her desk. "You were too busy avoiding me."

The man seemed taken aback. He moved his hand over his face.

"Tell me, Cuddy," he started cautiously. "What happened yesterday?"

"Why do you ask? Didn't House tell you?"

"I wanted to hear your story."

His boss sighed. She put her chin against her hands, looking ahead with dreamy eyes. Before she knew, she confided to the nosy doctor.

"I know this is hard to believe, but House… He asked me out on a date. I presume it's your doing. We spent a very nice day together. At first, I wondered whether he wasn't simply trying to get me to bed."

"And?" the man asked eagerly.

"And nothing. He didn't. He was…" Cuddy searched for the right word. "Charming. Just like in the old days."

Wilson smiled at the sight of her face.

"So you're admitting that he isn't just a friend?"

"We slept together," she summed up. "Even you wouldn't believe in such crap."

The man nodded with understanding.

"Is this serious?" He tried to learn as much as possible.

"Come on!" House burst into the office before Cuddy had the time to answer. "Did you run the whole way? How much did he drag out of you?" he addressed his girlfriend.

"I didn't know I was being interrogated," she said, perplexed. "Since when is our relationship a secret?"

"Ever since Wilson likes to poke his fat nose into other people's business," he replied, pointing at the oncologist with his cane.

"Hey!" His friend became defensive. "I'm just trying to help."

"Thanks, but I know about the birds and the bees," informed the diagnostician, pushing him outside. "I can handle this."

He turned to face Cuddy, resting both of his hands on the cane. She could tell he was up to something just by looking at him.

"I have a case to discuss."

"And you thought Wilson wouldn't get the subtle allusion?"

House wringed his hands.

"What's wrong with you people?" he asked into the silence. "Don't you remember the meaning of fun?"

"House?"

"Yes, sunshine?"

"You wanted something."

The man approached the desk and leaned against the desktop. He bend forward so low that she could feel his breath on her face. Looking deep into her eyes, House reached behind his jacket. He handed his boss a blue file.

"I need your permission to do a biopsy."

Cuddy signed the papers and gave them back without a word. For some time after he'd left, she could have sworn he came to her with something totally different.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

House was sitting on the floor of his office. Among many things that had recently occupied his mind, one bothered him more than ever. What the hell was wrong with his patient? The kid arrived at the hospital this morning, and his condition had been getting worse ever since. It's normal for admitted people to get sick, sure. But what could possibly link together an acute respiratory failure, right hand paralysis, and seizures? Nobody seemed to have the answer. The time was running out. The kid was dying. And House had no idea why.

He could hear her enter. Although she was doing her best not to get spotted.

"If you want to yell at me, I'm not in the mood," said the diagnostician without taking his sight off the wall he was throwing the ball against. He kept doing this for several hours.

"Don't worry, I have your motorcycle," said Cuddy. She was unusually calm. "I've heard about your patient."

"I'd be surprised if the hottest gossips didn't reach you."

Having noticed the man wasn't in the mood to talk, she sat down right next to him.

"Is there a way I can help you?" the woman asked with care.

"No one can help me," answered House in a whisper, throwing the ball once again.

"What are you talking about?"

"I am a crappy doctor."

His boss glanced at him with anxiety. She was trying to comprehend the meaning of his words. House was rarely self-critical. Unless he was playing one of his games with her, the man truthfully thought so. Did he have a good reason?

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," he sighed out. "That's the point. I didn't move a finger. I was of no help during the differential, had no brilliant ideas. I can't think clearly. I as good as killed this kid."

Cuddy patted him on the shoulder.

"The boy's still alive," she stated firmly. "And _you_ did nothing wrong. Everyone has a bad day once in a while."

"It's not that," he disagreed. "You're distracting me."

"You could have just said you wanted me to go."

"I mean, in general," House specified. "Because of you, I cannot focus on my work."

"House," the woman whispered. The sound of his own name, said in a soft and caring voice, was unexpectedly soothing. "Are you unhappy with me?"

The ball hit the cabinet and rolled to the door.

"Cuddy…" House came back to his senses. "Don't say that."

When his eyes met hers, the woman saw how hurt he was by her suggestion. These two blue orbs said more than a thousand unspoken words. The Dean of Medicine couldn't believe how naive her boyfriend was. She put her hands on both sides of his neck and looked deeply into his contracted pupils.

"House," Cuddy repeated a bit louder than before. She wanted to be sure that House would listen to what she had to say. "You have a right to be happy. You just need to learn how to live with it."

"What if I won't be as good as I used to be?"

The man unknowingly held his breath. He could swear Cuddy could feel his elevated heartbeat.

"You'll always be the greatest man I have ever known."

This confession cost her more than she anticipated. She had to tell him, though. In his state, the man might have done something reckless. Like finishing the best thing they both had.

"You're saying that to make me feel better."

"For the majority of your life, you were all alone," she continued in a shaky voice. "Miserable. Your situation has drastically changed. Everything's going to be fine, you'll see. We'll get through this together."

Cuddy couldn't have known what a relief her statement was. According to himself, her boyfriend wasn't extraordinarily handsome or funny. No one in his right mind would call him the life of the party. And he was a cripple. A brilliant mind was everything he could offer to a woman. The ability to connect the facts and solve the cases. Which had let him down lately. More than anything, he was afraid that the woman next to him would lose her interest and leave. Which she didn't.

House put his arm up so that Cuddy could lean closer. She bend her legs and put her head against his chest.

"The situation has changed…" he repeated her words.

With some difficulty, the man got to his feet, grabbed the cane, and walked out of the room, leaving his girlfriend alone. Cuddy nodded with understanding. For once, she helped him solve a medical mystery.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

At last, the Dean of Medicine managed to reach her office. It's been years since she had such a busy morning. Everyone wanted something. Some of the requests were so absurd that the woman had to check whether her boyfriend hadn't put at her back a sticker saying _The sexiest miracle worker in Princeton_. As well as she knew him, he was capable of doing as much.

She turned the key in the lock and walked inside. The woman's attention was drawn to an unexpected guest who was resting at the couch. She put the papers at her desk and approached the lying figure.

"House, get up," ordered Cuddy. The diagnostician was fast asleep.

"House!" She repeated twice as loud. The man jumped up, startled. "Could you please explain to me why are you sleeping in my locked office?"

"There's nothing to explain," he replied with a yawn. "It's all your fault. Because of you, I couldn't sleep at night."

Cuddy smiled, sitting at the armrest.

"Since we've already touched the subject…" she begun. "As you probably remember, the conference that is very important to me starts tomorrow morning. I'll give you a week off clinic duty for two days without sex."

"Are you kidding me?" The man looked astonished. "Since we're sharing a room, it would be a waste not to put it to good use."

"We're having separate rooms," she corrected him. "Before you add anything, all the costs are on the hospital's bill."

"Why do you even ask?" he wondered.

"I've already told you. I care about this conference. I'm having a speech, I need to be well-rested."

"Three weeks," he started to negotiate.

"Two," she said. "And not a day more."

"Deal."

House got up from the couch and headed to the exit. Before leaving, he added,

"In that case, I'll take Wilson with me. Getting him drunk isn't as funny as making out with you, but I won't be picky."

* * *

"It's sooo boring!" House couldn't refrain from criticizing.

"Thank you for waiting with your remarks until the break," Cuddy praised his boyfriend.

"Although, you could refrain from asking the author of the lecture about how drunk he was when he was choosing the subject," said Wilson.

"It's not my fault that the guy talked for almost two hours about the boils on his granny's butt."

"Yeah…" the oncologist sighed out. "Who would have expected a lecture about skin diseases given by a dermatologist?"

The three doctors headed to the main hall, where the organizers served hot drinks and cakes. They sat at one of the tables.

"Do I really need to sit through all the speeches?" House didn't look forward to listening to three more idiots.

"Of course you don't," replied Cuddy. "All I said was, I'd feel much better having you around."

The diagnostician sighed deeply. He despised lectures. This was the main reason why not many university professors knew he attended their classes, but also why he hadn't attended any conferences in the last years. His intuition told him, though, that his girl would be pissed if he stayed in the hotel room. After giving it some thought, House figured that he could try to sleep when sitting up.

"Okay," said the man after a moment.

"Love inspires us to greatness," commented Wilson.

"Shut up," retorted House.

"Look, boys!" Cuddy drew their attention to the timetable. "This evening, there is an integration party, and we're all invited. Don't you think we should go?"

"Sure, why not," answered House, ignoring Wilson's meaningful gaze.

"It's settled, then. Excuse me for a minute."

Cuddy kissed House and headed to the ladies' room. The moment she disappeared behind the corner, Wilson bent toward his friend and muttered,

"There's no way I'll go with you two. You and Cuddy will hit the dance floor, and what am I supposed to do? Thanks, I'll pass."

"Don't you dare!" interrupted House. "With my leg, I won't last more than three songs. Even less when sober. I need a drinking buddy."

Wilson analyzed all the pros and cons. Finally, he made his decision.

"Alright. But you'll owe me big time."

* * *

"I forgot you were such a great dance."

House smiled, looking down at Cuddy, whose head had been on his chest for the last two songs. For the first time, he wished he was shorten than she was.

"It's all thanks to the drinks we had with Wilson," the man answered.

They both glanced at the bar where they left the oncologist. He was accompanied by a nicely-dressed middle-aged woman.

"Isn't that the endocrinologist that was sitting in the row below us?" noticed the Dean of Medicine.

"Didn't take him long to find consolation," commented the diagnostician. "Which, thankfully, means that we'd be standing in his way."

Noticing that the woman didn't catch the allusion, he whispered to her ear,

"Maybe we should move the party to your room?"

Cuddy gave the man a questioning look.

"What about my speech?"

"You're next to last. You'll get your sleep."

"You know this will cost you two weeks of free clinic?" She wanted to make sure.

House leaned down to kiss her neck.

"The sex had better be good, then."

* * *

Wilson came down for breakfast. The buffet offered much too many dishes. He'd be having problems deciding even without the hangover. It seems he'd never learn to restrain himself in his friend's company. How on earth could a person popping pills like candies drink so much alcohol without consequences?

The oncologist stood still for a moment longer, then grabbed the first sandwich he could reach and sat at the nearest table. Before he took the first bite, though, he heard House's voice from behind.

"Did you sleep well?"

"I would if it wasn't for the couple behind the wall," he replied in a hushed voice. "I thought they'd never stop."

House looked sideways, half-closing his left eye.

"Whops," he said with feign embarrassment. Wilson dropped his sandwich.

"You're kidding!"

"You wish," the diagnostician went on. "You know, the best moment was when Cuddy–"

"House," interrupted the oncologist. "Please, for once in your life, don't confide in me."

"What, are you suddenly disinterested in my life?" He was honestly surprised.

"This, or I simply don't want to hear any details because you're my friends."

"Cut the crap, will ya?" House got impatient. "I had to your whining about each of your ex-wives."

Having said that, he reached for his friend's breakfast, for which he got a rap on the knuckles.

"No, you didn't," protested Wilson. "I didn't want to say a word. You were the one to drag everything out of me and threaten to spread gossips about my marriage if I don't cooperate."

"A fish has to swim. Speaking of fishes, how's the one you hooked last night?"

"Arlene?" he asked. "She's nice. We talked for a while. Unfortunately, she's been happily married for thirteen years."

"Pity," sighed out the taller doctor. "Gotta go. Cuddy's waiting for breakfast."

The oncologist watched his friend carefully.

"Gregory House, who are you?"

"Why are you so surprised?" House raised his cane up to the air. "I'm quite a stud, after all."

He left his friend alone, speechless, with his still untouched sandwich.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

"House, it's time to get up!" whispered Cuddy into his boyfriend's ear, patting him lightly on the cheek.

"Mooom, just five more minutes," murmured House, turning to his side.

"Come on. We still need to go to my apartment. I have nothing to wear."

"As if you've ever said that you _have_ something to wear…" the man replied a little more consciously.

At these words, Cuddy abandoned her attempts to collect the rest of her garments from the bedroom floor.

"If you hadn't stubbornly insisted on opening a new can of whipped cream, I could have put on my yesterday's clothes," she snapped back, throwing the used-to-be-blue blouse right into the diagnostician's face. Resigned, the man sat up.

"Have you ever heard me whine when we're staying at your place?"

An involuntary smirk appeared on Cuddy's face. For obvious reasons, her clothing suffered much more than her boyfriend's due to Gregory House's rich imagination. Which didn't mean that he himself walked away from their little games unharmed. Most of the time, however, he simply turned his t-shirt inside out and headed straight to work. It went under his jacket, after all. Nobody would notice.

"Only because you don't care about your appearance, doesn't mean I can't," she noticed. "Don't my boobs look better when I dress them in a nice, clean shirt?"

"They look best naked," replied House, getting out of bed to take a better look at the woman.

"Forget I even asked." She approached the man to place a light kiss on his lips. He, in turn, took her hands in his own and asked,

"Maybe we should just move in together?"

* * *

Unceremoniously, House stormed into his boss's office. In his hand, he held the test results of the patient whose files he got from Cuddy a day before yesterday. The diagnostician stopped in the middle of the room and watched the woman as she talked on the phone. At first, she pretended to ignore him. She was in the middle of setting the date of concluding the subsidy agreement for extending the Department of Pediatric Oncology. Her employee turned out to be very persistent. He raised his eyebrows, meaningfully waving the file back and forth. This made Cuddy realize he wouldn't let go so easily.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said into the receiver. "I'll call you back in five."

The woman hang up and addressed House.

"Anything wrong with the patient?"

"Other than that she's a teenage idiot having sex with anyone in her eyesight?" he said with evident sarcasm. "Nope."

"Then, what's with the files?" she asked suspiciously.

"I took them so that I wouldn't have to wait until you're not busy."

The Dean of Medicine sighed, covering her face with her hand. She was too tired for his games. Cuddy's curiosity took the better of her when she asked,

"Why are you here?"

"I… have a gift for you." On her desk, the man placed a sheet of paper. The woman gave it a closer look. "Sign it."

"House." Cuddy glanced at the diagnostician, ignoring the pen he was shoving into her hand. "What is this?"

"Your list of responsibilities," he replied. "Sign it."

The woman sat straighter in her chair and put her hands together.

"What responsibilities?" she asked.

"The things you're obliged to do when we move in together," her boyfriend explained, hurrying her with his hand. "Sign it."

"Seventy two positions?!"

"Sign it."

"Would you stop?" said Cuddy with impatience. She turned the page over. "Where's your list?"

"I don't need one."

"Oh, really?" The woman raised her brows with disbelief.

"Sure thing." House walked around the room. "I am a nice, adorable sweetheart."

"You're also unbelievable," she finished his recital, folding her arms. "I'm not signing anything."

The man made a step towards her. He was ready to fight for his rights to the end. Especially for the points dealing with cooking, washing dishes, being in control of the remote, and guaranteeing free time for Wilson. Plus, taking out the thrashes, if he could help it. He wouldn't even dream that she'd agree for the rest.

"I'll sign it tomorrow, after I present you with my version," added Cuddy before her employee opened his mouth to bargain.

"The following list shall be approved in the unchanged form," stated House.

Cuddy leaned forward, a dangerous smirk on her face.

"My version of the list of _your_ responsibilities," she specified.

"We're not even living together, and you're already making problems."

"See you tomorrow, House," said the woman, indicating that she was done with negotiations.

"I shall return at high noon," the diagnostician informed before leaving, pointing his finger at Cuddy.

"First thing in the morning, then," she retorted. "Bye, House."

"Bye, Cuddy."

* * *

"I got acknowledged with your offer," informed Cuddy on the next day, spreading the sheets of paper before her. Many words were crossed-out or underlined "Numbers eleven to twenty six, as well as forty to seventy two do not include repetitions but occurrences. Two nights and we're done with them."

"All of a sudden, you care about the phrasing?" inquired House. "If I had to add _everyday_ to every–"

"Don't even think of numbers three, six, and eight," she continued, ignoring his protests. "I'm not about to walk naked around the house, come to work dressed like a slut, or share my underwear."

House made a sad face and tilted his head. It didn't help much.

"All the other points will be equally divided between the two of us, taking account of small deviations caused by random events."

The diagnostician frowned. He realized that she lived of negotiating agreements. The one thing he didn't take into consideration was the fact that Cuddy was damn good at it.

"This isn't my list. I demand restoring the previous version!"

"You don't understand," the woman kindly replied. "I'm signing this version or I'm not signing anything at all."

The diagnostician folded his arms and glowered at his boss.

"Witch."

"Manipulator."

"Thanks," he said, brightening up a little. "Well, better this than nothing, I guess."

"You, on the other hand, are signing _this_." Cuddy handed House a piece of paper. Taking it, the man admitted,

"I hoped you'd forgotten."

"In your dreams."

It took him a while to scan the text. Cuddy worked hard on her list. Almost every point consisted of several sentences. They described the exact way in which the diagnostician would have to complete the agreement. As if she knew that the smallest ambiguity would be used against her.

"Our Dean is getting naughty." House smiled, still not taking his eyes off the piece of paper. "Half of the points concern sexual positions."

"The same can be said about yours," she responded, hitting back.

"Which still wasn't enough for you," he pointed out.

"I have my needs, House."

"Wait a sec," the man added a few seconds later. Something didn't seem right. "What am I forbidden to do? I can't do my job if you tie my hands like that."

He threw up his hands, waiting for her reaction. The woman supported her chin with her arms, blinking flirtatiously. She wasn't going to compromise. Seeing this, her boyfriend sighed deeply and continued to read. Actually, the list didn't contain anything he wasn't willing to do of his own accord. House appreciated that Cuddy knew him well and felt where the boundaries lied. She was moving along them like a skillful acrobat.

"Almost like a marriage certificate," commented the Dean of Medicine after they both placed their signatures on each of the three copies. One for them, one for their partner, and one for Wilson.

"Except for one small detail," House corrected her, pointing with his finger at the note on the bottom. " Either party may terminate it with one month's notice."


	12. Chapter 12

_Thank you all for your support! Comments are highly appreciated._

* * *

 **Chapter 12.**

The accounting period was approaching at an alarming pace. Wilson desperately needed some time to organize all his papers. With so many dying patients to take care of, he never really cared about the documentation, which meant that a few sleepless nights awaited him. Therefore, he wasn't too thrilled when he saw that House entered his office. For like the fourth time this morning. Before he had a chance to throw him out, though, he heard,

"Cuddy's pregnant."

Wilson was dumbfounded. He was looking at his friend with an open mouth. As if House suddenly grew green tentacles and a long, furry tail.

"Alright. Forget I mentioned it," said the diagnostician, turning to leave.

"Wow," uttered the oncologist the moment he regained control over his voice. "Congratulations. But why are you here on your own? We should celebrate."

House was silent. With force, he flopped down on the chair. He looked terrified.

"What's the matter?" asked Wilson with care, leaning forward.

"We never even talked about having kids." House ran his hand over his forehead.

"So how did this happen?" inquired his friend. "Didn't you use any protection?"

"If in-vitro didn't get her pregnant, why would I?"

Wilson laughed nervously at their recklessness, for which he apologized with a gesture. He noticed that the man sitting in front of him was truly worried. The best evidence was that House sought his advice and didn't brush off his questions with silly jokes. The oncologist sat straight in his seat and clasped his hands together.

"What did you tell her?" asked Wilson after he recovered from the initial shock and could think straight at last.

"Nothing." admitted House. "I didn't talk to her."

"Then how do you know that…?" asked his friend, his eyes narrowed.

"What do you mean, how?" said the other man, surprised. "She feels sick, her mood swings, and her period's late."

"How much?"

The diagnostician dropped his gaze.

"Two weeks."

"This is serious," stated Wilson after a moment.

"You think?!"

House still felt disturbed. Seemingly, what happened was nothing extraordinary. This was a natural course he could have easily predicted. And yet, he didn't. But why? Responsibility scared him, obligations he ran from. Not so long ago, he made a decision which made a great change in his life, he didn't need another one. Did he think the woman he loved would leave had he told her?

"Don't you dare leaving her alone with this," ordered Wilson, pulling him out of his thoughts. The oncologist knew House well, and he was worried that his friend would do something stupid. Somehow, he had to reach his extremely logical mind. "Starting a relationship with Cuddy, you knew perfectly well what you were getting yourself into. For years, she's been trying to have a baby. You'd be a total dickhead if you ruined for her the last chance to be a mother."

House's face was serious and tense. Apparently, he understood.

"So, what do I do?" he asked, glancing at the oncologist with hope.

"No secret blood tests, or I'll tell her. You'd do best if you simply talked to her," advised Wilson. "But, for crying out loud, be gentle!"

House's nod was hardly noticeable. A short silence later, he heard his friend's encouraging voice.

"Where are we drinking?"

* * *

House decided to visit his boss's office. As always, he came in without knocking. In front of her, he placed the gift bag which, up until now, had been dangling on the handle of his cane.

The woman looked up, surprised with his behavior. She picked up the package carefully, as if she expected it to explode at any moment. From inside, she pulled out a baby blue infant romper.

"Nice," she praised, having taken a closer look. "Who is this for?"

"You," the man answered, leaning against his cane.

"Thank you, honey, but I'm afraid it's not my size."

House gazed questioningly into the grey eyes of his girlfriend.

"Come on," he said with impatience. "You can tell me."

"Tell you what?"

It wasn't before the diagnostician glanced meaningfully at the piece of clothing she was still holding in her hands that she realized what he indicated. The woman had no clue how to react. She got up from the chair and walked around the desk to stand right in front of the man. She leaned against the desktop.

"House…" whispered Cuddy, covering her eyes with her hand. "I'm not pregnant."

"Are you sure?"

The woman looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Of course I'm sure," she said through gritted teeth. "Where did this idea come from, anyway?"

"Wilson," said House. "He figured you'd become more bitchy than usual."

"Did he also figure that my period is late?"

She got him.

"Hormones?" he inquired.

"Contraceptives."

House moved his head back and frowned. He would be less surprised if Wilson declared he's done with girls and is dating boys now. Then, maybe he would have finally formed a lasting relationship.

"What? Why?" the man asked, shaking his head, still unwilling to believe. "You've been trying to have kids for years, haven't you?"

"But you haven't," she answered quickly, as her voice shook.

The diagnostician looked down at his feet.

"You never even asked," he whispered.

The silence which followed seemed to last for eternity Cuddy knew she should have said something. House's extraordinary actions made it nearly impossible for her to collect her thoughts.

"You've been thinking about having kids?" she spoke at last. "With me?"

"Otherwise, I'd be a total dickhead to start a relationship with a woman whose dream is to become a mom," he recalled Wilson's speech still echoing in his head. Pointing the cane at his girlfriend, he went on.

"Your actions, on the other hand, mean that you don't think I'd be a good father."

When House mustered enough courage to look into Cuddy's face, in his blue eyes she saw many feelings that were completely different from what she'd expected. There was no fear, anger, or accusation. Rather, something similar to sadness and… disappointment? She didn't even know how to call it. Anyway, her boyfriend regretted something. That she didn't give him a choice? That she'd never seen him in such a way? God, if only she'd seen him like that two years ago… Everything would have been different.

"Do you remember the day I walked into your office to thank you for the injections?" she muttered with difficulty, recalling every detail.

House nodded, watching her with all his attention. Although, he already guessed what she was trying to tell him.

"I wanted to ask you a question." She spoke slowly, minding every word. "I still have no idea how to say this."

"What about _I desire your sperm_?" he joked to lighten up the mood. Which caused Cuddy to snort with laughter.

"I was rather thinking, _I want to have your child, Greg_."

House considered her for a moment.

"I don't buy the _Greg_ part, but the rest is fine with me."

He approached his girlfriend and hugged her with one hand. Cuddy placed her head on his shoulder. When the feelings subsided a little, House slipped his hand under her blouse and whispered,

"So, where should we begin?"


End file.
